Hard
by murderofonerose
Summary: It started with silliness and cupcakes. Drabble-length chapters, Skwisgaar/Toki slash later on.
1. Essays are Hard

**Warning: **Silliness**  
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**Word Count: **93**  
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**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

One night, a friend of mine was trying to get some essays written and asked me, "Why is this so haaaard?" My knee-jerk reaction was, "Because of Skwisgaar and Toki." (This is my catch-all response to just about anything these days.) She replied, "This is true. If they weren't so sexy!"

And then this happened.

**

* * *

Essays Are Hard**

* * *

A girl walked up to Toki and Skwisgaar with a tray of cupcakes. How she had gotten past the klokateers was a mystery, but not one that was entirely beyond solving if you considered that a corner of the tray was conspicuously empty.

"Eat these," she said cheerfully. "If your waistlines expand, my essays will be easier to write!"

Charles appeared and ordered her to be escorted out. She was never seen again, and her rumored essays were never written.

Toki ate most of the cupcakes and failed to gain a single pound.


	2. Essays Are Still Hard

**Warning:** Slash on the horizon**  
Pairing: **Skwisgaar/Toki**  
Word Count: **228**  
Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

Skwisgaar always knows how to beat the competition. Even if the competition is a tray of cupcakes.

This is still pretty silly.

**

* * *

Essays Are Still Hard**

* * *

Skwisgaar looked furtively over his shoulder as he crept into the alley.

"Did you bring the money?"

He jumped. "Uh, ja… I dids…"

"Okay." A young woman in a trench coat and sunglasses stepped out of the shadows, holding a Tupperware. "This needs to be refrigerated until you use it. And you should use it soon, or it won't spread very well."

"Oh. Rights…"

"That is what you said you wanted it for, isn't it? You were pretty specific when we were talking online…"

"Ja, dat ams why I wants it fors." He pulled an envelope out of his pocket. "Dis ams de moneys you wantsted. I tolds de butlers guy whats dis was for, so you won'ts be killsed unless you tells anybodies." They exchanged items, and he peered in through the transparent sides of the Tupperware. "If dis ams works, I buys more froms yous later maybes."

The young woman grinned, counting her money. "Okay. I'm not even going to ask what you want that for."

"Ja, dat ams a goods ideas I ams t'inks," Skwisgaar replied haughtily, clutching his newly purchased treasure to his chest. If this didn't get him into Toki's pants, he didn't know what would. "Goodsbye."

As he walked away, back to the dethlimo, she waved and called after him, "Email me any time! Making frosting beats writing philosophy papers any day."


	3. Frosting Codpiece

**Warning:** Slash**  
Pairing: **Skwisgaar/Toki**  
Word Count: **427**  
Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

Om nom frosting. This part was written for the challenge prompt "knife" on the i_hates_you livejournal comm.

I was going to post this yesterday, but I forgot. Sahrry.

**

* * *

Frosting Codpiece**

* * *

Skwisgaar had very specific plans for what to do with his most recent purchase. But first, he had to set the trap.

First, he sent Toki an anonymous note in messy handwriting that read, "Please comes to have de late nights secret dinner meals for desserts," followed by convoluted directions to a smaller dining hall that was usually locked unless they had guests they didn't want to eat with and needed to hide from.

Then, he had some hooded servants fix the place up a bit. More burning torches, for mood lighting. Two places set on the table. A bed sheet cleverly disguised as a tablecloth and some strategically placed pillows. He'd tested the arrangement himself and found it acceptably comfortable for lounging attractively.

All there was left to do after that was spread the frosting and wait.

* * *

Toki approached the door to the small dining room cautiously. He knew what Skwisgaar's handwriting looked like, and even if he hadn't the spelling (which was even worse than Murderface's) would have tipped him off. So he had to be careful - there was no telling what kind of trick the lead guitarist was trying to play on him now.

He peeked in the door and gasped quietly, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.

There was Skwisgaar, all right.

Toki pushed the door open and stood there staring with wild abandon. He could smell the high sugar content from there.

"Woulds you likes to… comes in?" Skwisgaar asked seductively, wearing only frosting. Which he'd used most of to make a sort of codpiece for himself. And then dipped in rainbow sprinkles.

"Wowee…"

"Just shuts de door behinds you foirsts."

Some time later, Toki flopped down on some of the table pillows with a grin. All the frosting was gone, save for a tiny smear to the right of his bottom lip. There was exactly one rainbow sprinkle caught in his fu manchu.

"Thats was pretty greats," he commented.

"Ja," Skwisgaar agreed satedly. His plan had worked even better than he'd expected, actually. The first thing Toki had done was grabbed a butter knife and gone for the extra frosting that had ended up all over the Swede's pale thighs; the gentle, teasing scrape of the cool metal, slowly warming from repeatedly ending up in Toki's mouth, had been almost as good as the tongue that soon followed.

"But you knows," Toki added, "if you wanteds to does that you coulds have just asks."

Skwisgaar blinked at him.

"Frostings was a nice touches, though. I likes that."


End file.
